


Remember Me

by IggyLikesPie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dreams, Game of Thrones spoilers, Ghosts, M/M, Mild torture, Not Beta Read, Other, Possibly OOC, Ramsay is his own warning, Translation Available, i was sad and mildly disappointed theon wasnt there to see what happened so i wrote this, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:10:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggyLikesPie/pseuds/IggyLikesPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon still dreams of Ramsay sometimes.<br/>But this dream is different from all the others.</p><p>or</p><p>Ramsay is dead but he wants to visit his favourite pet one last time before he moves on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember Me

Theon still dreamt of Ramsay sometimes. 

 

The bastard's voice curling like toxic gas in his dreams, gripping his thoughts and tightening the hold, strangling, until Theon can't breathe, until he woke coughing and tasting bile at the back of his throat.

 

Yara said it would pass. Theon hoped it would pass soon.

 

_My loyal Reek..._

 

Never his real name in the dreams, always the one Ramsay had given him, subjected him to.

 

Sometimes the dreams were just flashes of the past, his mind replaying the torture he had endured, dragging the experiences back to the forefront and reminding him of the pain. Other times his mind created new scenarios in the dark; losing more than a finger from his arm, crawling blinded and begging, choking on words he can't form without a tongue.

 

And yet this particular dream was the strangest of them all.

 

He knew it was a dream, the fuzz around the edges gave it away, and everything was quite typical from the low light of his old holding cell to how he was tied up.

 

But it still wasn't a quite right.

 

The bastard of the Dreadfort sat in a chair across from him, resting his chin on his hand that leant on the arm of the chair.

 

All normal.

 

Except that Ramsay was already drenched in blood, bits of his clothes torn, and the skin underneath appeared to be marred by bite marks.

 

"Hello, Reek." The voice was the same, cold and steady.

 

"You're just a dream," Theon ground out. "You can't hurt me anymore."

 

Ramsay hummed. "No I can't, not now." He rose and circled Ree- _Theon_ , he berated himself, once before stopping in front of him. "Tell me, do you still think of me often, pet?"

 

"No." Theon muttered through clenched teeth. Lying to his own mangled subconscious probably wouldn't do anything to lessen the imagined pain when Ramsay finally picked up his knives but he allowed himself the indulgence of defiance.

 

"Now now, Reek, I don't like it when you lie to me." Ramsay patted the other man's cheek slowly before twining a hand in his hair and pulling back. "Won't you be good for me one last time? My good pet?"

 

"Never again." Theon choked out, feeling Ramsay's other hand begin to drum fingers against his exposed throat.

 

"That's a shame. I thought we could play one last game before I go." Ramsay sighed, his breath ghosting hotly over Theon's cheek. "I'll miss this all terribly."

 

He pulled back suddenly and turned to the table next to the chair he had vacated, picking up a small, thin knife, and twisting it slowly I'm hand.

 

"You always were my favourite pet, Reek, the most loyal, so when you left me I should have known really." Ramsay rambled, still not facing Theon. 

 

"What the fuck are you on about?" Theon asked, knowing he'd receive lashings for it but not finding himself to care.

 

Ramsay turned and pointed the knife at Theon, the end of the blade only inches from his face. "Nothing of importance, certainly no business of a pet. _Lord_ things, my dear Reek. And you are still no lord. Run and pretend all you want."

 

Theon stayed quiet. Arguing with this horror would just be arguing with himself, granted, a dark part of himself that had been left behind in that dungeon but himself nonetheless.

 

"Now..." Ramsay continued, coming close again and slowly trailing the cold blade across Theon's skin. "Where shall we begin. I want this to be good, something to remember." His voice was distant, almost wistful if Theon dared think such a thing.

 

Perhaps his mind truly had snapped if he now heard Ramsay talking in almost fond tones.

 

A sharp pain in his left arm brought him out of his pondering, a cry wrestling its way out of his throat as Ramsay twisted the blade just below Theon's elbow. He watched as blood dripped from the new injury and onto the floor.

 

Theon couldn't help the whimper that passed his lips as Ramsay removed the blade before using the flat side to coat Theon's arm with blood. 

 

When Theon's forearm was covered, Ramsay returned to the centre and pressed the knife against Theon's bottom lip. "Clean it." he commanded.

 

Theon stared dead ahead into Ramsay's cold eyes set into a face covered in blood that was not his pet's. He didn't move.

 

"Are you losing your hearing, Reek? I said _clean it_." Ramsay pressed harder, pulling Theon's lip down a little to scrape the blade against his teeth.

 

Theon spat, not onto the blade but into Ramsay's face. "Oops." he deadpanned.

 

Ramsay blinked slowly, wiping his eyes slowly, some of the blood coming away from his face with the spit revealing more teeth marks underneath. Deep and jagged but not bleeding. In fact, Ramsay's skin was almost blue underneath; cold, dead looking.

 

He pushed the blade back into Theon's arm before turning back to the table and picking up another toy. Ramsay turned around again with a metal-tipped flogger, the tails swaying gently as he walked back to his favourite pet.

 

"Don't you love me anymore, Reek? Am I not still your beloved master? Do you not remember?" The last word was more of a snarl than anything else as Ramsay pulled his arm back and quickly lashed at Theon's exposed chest.

 

Theon grunted but held in his scream, he had endured worse, he could do it again.

 

"I asked you a question, Reek."

 

Another lash, the cold metal stinging and biting at his skin.

 

"Do you really not remember?"

 

Clawing, metal fingers raked across his chest again.

 

"Maybe I should refresh your memory."

 

Ramsay ran cold fingers over each cut, digging into each deep one and little and pulling at its edges until Theon was gasping, his voice breaking.

 

"So long ago I asked you if you loved me, Reek." he murmured, running his thumb along a particularly long lash on Theon left side. "And what did you reply with? 'Yes, of course, m'Lord.'" Ramsay imitated in a high pitched voice, not giving Theon any time to respond. "That's what you said, Reek, you didn't lie to me did you?"

 

"You're a bastard." Theon gasped as Ramsay pushed his fingers into the cuts again, stroking the exposed flesh underneath the skin almost tenderly.

 

"I was and then I was a lord. It sure was fun while it lasted... Such a good game."

 

_Theon!_

 

The voice seemed to come from every direction, echoing off the stone walls. It was Yara. He must have woken her with his tossing and turning, his screaming.

 

"Yara!" he called back, somehow hoping that would help him wake sooner.

 

"Not yet, Reek, not yet." Ramsay dropped the flogged from his other hand and then brought both up to cradle Theon's face. "Remember, you'll always be mine. Whenever you want to piss or fuck a girl or you see a dog or smell blood you will remember me."

 

"I hope you burn in all the Hells: those of the old gods, the new gods, the Drowned God's, the Lord of Light's, I don't care which first but burn in them all."

 

"I'm already on my way." Ramsay smiled, his teeth gleaming against the blood across his face. "But you'll remember me while I'm there. Goodbye, Reek." he placed a kiss on Theon's forehead before light rushed into his eyes, blinding him for a moment as he woke.

 

"You were screaming again, Theon. Daenerys' guards thought you were being murdered." Yara told him, her hands on his shoulders from where she'd been shaking him. "Another nightmare?"

 

Theon nodded. "Just the usual."

 

Yara gave a weak smile. "Soon, Theon, you'll be free soon."

 

~x~x~x~

 

They ate with the Dragon Queen the next morning, a simple breakfast of fish and bread and fruit but still befitting the queen for its taste.

 

The conversation was light; discussion of culture in Meereen, mostly, with only some talk of the future. 

 

It was bizarre.

 

But stranger still was the messenger who delivered news from Westeros halfway through.

 

The translator told them in the common tongue what had been said: that the Starks had removed house Bolton from Winterfell, that the north was united under the wolf again, that Ramsay Bolton was dead.

 

Yara looked over at her brother at this but Theon could only think that maybe finally, _finally_ , he truly would be free.

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to yougivemecontrol on tumblr who translated this! the translation can be read here:  
> https://ficbook.net/readfic/4509609


End file.
